It is a strange but indisputable fact that when men of peace and love and charity turn into executioners, they become the most refined in cruelty of all; witness the _in-pace_ (dungeons) of convents, witness the cells of the Inquisition, witness the massacres of Alby, witness the auto-da-fés of Madrid, witness Joan of Arc, witness Urbain Grandier. This Cathelineau was what the country people between Angers and Saint-Laurent would term a sturdy lad (_gars_). Only three months elapsed between the day of his first shot and the day when he was killed, but these three months sufficed to make his name renowned in history. He was neither tall, nor had he refined manners; he was but five feet four inches high; but he had well-set shoulders and the hips were splendidly poised, and he possessed the fine cool prudent courage of the men of the West. We have mentioned that he was a sacristan, but he was many other things beside; he was mason, carrier, linen-merchant, a married man and the father of twelve or fourteen children. He had hardly gained a hearing before he set up a superior council comprised chiefly of priests: they troubled themselves but little over the nobles. The head of this council was the famous Bernier, curé d'Angers. Cathelineau was the man for him; the simple peasant discovered a quicker method of starting an insurrection than the pope with his bulls or the priests with their sermons. He advised the curés to shroud the crucifixes in black crèpe and to carry them thus in their processions. At the sight of their Christ in mourning, the peasants could no longer contain themselves; women tore their hair, men beat their breasts and all swore to kill the Republicans, root and branch, since they had grieved the Saviour. It should be added that nothing could be less knightly and less patriotic than the proclamations of these brave folk:-- "Down with conscription! Down with the militia! Let us dwell in our own countryside. People tell us the enemy may descend on us and threaten our homes. Well and good, let them first trespass on our soil, we shall be ready to meet them there!" And those who talked thus were well aware that the enemy would have devastated, pillaged and burned all France and demolished Paris before it ventured between their hedges and among their furze bushes and in their sunken pathways. It was equivalent to saying, "What does it matter to us what may happen to Alsace and Lorraine, Champagne and Burgundy, the Dauphiné and Provence?... What does it matter to us if they extinguish Paris, the light of the world?... Time enough to seize our guns when we see the Cossack leap his horse over our hedges!"